


A Collection of Isa's Drabbles

by Warriorcrazy



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Drabble Collection, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25659709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warriorcrazy/pseuds/Warriorcrazy
Summary: A collection of my drabbles :)
Relationships: All relationships are tagged in the chapter titles, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	1. the sun among blossoming flowers (Dorogrid)

**Author's Note:**

> Dorogrid Drabble - dorothea and ingrid waking up early together. modern au. 
> 
> i wrote this for my friend biz, who's a huge dorogrid shipper for when they were feeling down and then it took me 400 years to write. So biz, please enjoy <3

Dorothea blinked open her eyes, squinting as the sunlight stopped her eyes opening fully. Beside her, Ingrid was still fitfully asleep, clearly not awake and avoiding the sunlight. Unlike Dorothea. Dorothea rolled over onto her side, squinting when she saw the  _ lovely _ time of 7:15 am. 

With a groan, Dorothea rolled over so she was lying on her back instead of her side. She reached a hand up to push her hand through her hair, her hand getting caught in the tangles. She rubbed at her eyes, yawning, as her mind urged her to go to sleep. Dorothea hoped she would be able to. 

Dorothea rolled back over so she was staring at Ingrid, her gaze focusing on the softness of her skin, the relaxed expression on her face, the way her lips were just gently pursed as she slept. Dorothea couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face as watched Ingrid sleep, a feeling of warmth blossoming in her chest as she looked at her. Dorothea was lucky to have someone in her life as beautiful and as wonderful as Ingrid, wasn’t she?

“Stop staring at me,” Dorothea jolted at the words, as Ingrid spoke those words aloud. Dorothea smiled, looking a little guilty, as Ingrid blinked her eyes open. Dorothea stared into Ingrid’s sleepy, pretty blue eyes, and said nothing in her defense, content to keep staring. 

At Dorothea’s lack of response, Ingrid only snorted and rolled over to her side so that she could face Dorothea more clearly. Ingrid’s hair was a mess (and Dorothea figured hers was too) but Dorothea didn’t notice or care about that. Ingrid looked stunning in every crevice of the world. 

“What’s got you up so early?” Ingrid murmured, her voice soft and quiet as to not ruin the early morning mood. Dorothea shrugged and reached her arm forward so it was clasping Ingrid’s. Ingrid clasped her hand right back and stroked the back of Dorothea’s hand. Butterflies erupted in Dorothea’s stomach at Ingrid’s touch, and Dorothea would never get tired at the feeling of unadulterated love that she felt every time Ingrid did anything romantic. 

“I don’t know,” Dorothea said in that same quiet tone back, staring at Ingrid’s face, who looked thoughtful and open, “I just...woke up.” Ingrid _hmmed_ at this and scooted forward so their faces were inches apart. They were so close their noses were practically touching. Some people may have been concerned about morning breath but Dorothea and Ingrid had long since stopped caring about those things. 

“Maybe we should go back to sleep,” Ingrid whispered and Dorothea snorted, quietly, and gave a little nod of assent. Ingrid leaned just a little bit forward, connecting her and Dorothea’s lips together. It wasn’t a deep kiss but it was a soft and warm kiss and Dorothea pressed into it, releasing Ingrid’s hand to cup Ingrid’s cheek as they kissed. She could feel Ingrid’s smile against her lips but before it could go any deeper, Dorothea leaned back and kissed the tip of Ingrid’s nose. Ingrid wrinkled her nose, smiling, one of her dumb and goofy smiles that Dorothea adored.

Dorothea leaned back down on her back after a moment and Ingrid rested her head back onto Dorothea’s chest. They linked hands and Dorothea brought up one of Ingrid’s hands to her lips, brushing a kiss over the back of it. Ingrid, as she always did when Dorothea did that, blushed and returned her hand to her side. 

“I love you.” She said quietly and Ingrid beamed, leaning up to quickly kiss Dorothea again with a quiet, “I love you, too.” Ingrid leaned back down after their kiss and rested her head on Dorothea’s chest closing her eyes and Dorothea closed her eyes to follow suit. 

“Goodnight,” She murmured and she smiled as Ingrid whispered a quiet, “Goodnight,” back. As Dorothea drifted back off to sleep, lulled by Ingrid’s presence and warmth, she allowed herself to be grateful and thankful that she had someone as beautiful and wonderful as Ingrid in her life. 


	2. Hildagard drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard doesn't believe they're in a relationship. Hilda reminds her they are.

This was beginning to become a frightening pattern.  
  
It was a Sunday night, a night where Edelgard should be studying and furthering her plans of destroying capitalism with Hubert, except for about the fourth? fifth? Sunday in a row she was in Hilda’s bed.  
  
Hilda. Valentine. Gonreil.  
  
Hilda, who by all accounts, is the complete antithesis of Edelgard. She’s lazy, she’s apathetic, she has no life goals, she’s friends with _Claude Von Reigan_ , of all people.   
  
However, here she was. Another night - and if Edelgard was being honest it was more like another full-on day - with Hilda. In her apartment and in her bed and spending time with her and getting to _know_ Hilda, as a person. It was awful for Edelgard, she shouldn’t be doing this. She should be focusing on her studies, on her plans, on basically anything that wasn’t Hilda.   
  
But she wasn’t. Instead, she was still here, naked, in Hilda’s bed that she shared with Reigan, eating a bowl of ice cream and watching Kitchen Nightmares, of all things. She shouldn’t love it - she should want to leave. She doesn’t though, and the realization is terrifying, and Edelgard wished she had never met Hilda.   
  
“El,” Hilda said, her head on Edelgard’s lap, but before Hilda could finish her sentence, Edelgard is already snapping,  
  
“Don’t call me El.” She regretted it the moment she said it, but the words were already out and Hilda only raised an eyebrow at her before shrugging.  
  
“Anyway, _Edelgard,_ what do you think about being my date to the White Heron Ball?” Hilda’s voice was light, almost conversational and Edelgard is frozen. 

“T-the ball? Why? We aren’t dating.” Her voice was flat and full of authority - or at least she attempted it to be that way. In reality, her voice was confused and has a certain…weakness to it. Hilda, who still has her head in Edelgard’s lap, simply snorted.   
  
“Oh we aren’t? What’s this then? Just gals being pals?” Hilda’s eyelashes fluttered in the last part, her voice teasing. Edelgard, despite her best efforts, flushed at Hilda’s words and floundered for a response.  
  
Were they dating? Is that what they were doing? Seiros, she hadn’t planned for Hilda to enter her life, could she even date her? What would people _say_?  
  
As soon as that thought crosses through her mind, she’s furious with herself. Who gives a fuck about two girls being in a relationship? People like Ferdinand’s father, people like Hubert’s father, people like Sylvain’s father - all men who thought too highly of themselves and needed to be taken down a notch. Having Hilda by her side was certainly going to say _fuck you_ to them, and that was Edelgard’s goal, wasn’t it?   
  
Decision made, Edelgard squared her shoulders and looked determinedly down at Hilda.   
  
“Yes,” she said, nodding sharply and taking notice of Hilda’s raised eyebrow of surprise, “we are dating and I will be your date to the ball. Because we are dating.” A slow smile comes across Hilda’s face and her eyes widen, just a bit.   
  
“Yeah?” Hilda said, her voice just a little quieter, just a little timider.   
  
“Yeah,” Edelgard said, her voice quiet, matching Hilda’s, and leaned down to kiss Hilda. Hilda’s hand reached up to curl into Edelgard’s hair, angling their faces to kiss better. Edelgard loved kissing Hilda - her mind went quiet and it was only filled with a strong sense of warmth and something like love.  
  
Edelgard leaned a little back, breaking their kiss, and rested her forehead on Hilda’s, even though it was an awful angle for her neck. The discomfort was worth it to see Hilda smile up at her. 

“Let’s finish watching this episode of Kitchen Nightmares and then…round two?” Hilda’s voice had returned to its playful, teasing tone, and Edelgard couldn’t stop the smile from crossing her features.   
  
“Yeah,” she said, sitting up and rolling out her neck to work out the kinks, “let’s do that.” Edelgard rested her hands in Hilda’s soft, silky hair and let herself relax and watch the wildness of Gordon Ramsay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr (@officialhilda) and twitter (@hildagonreil)


	3. Mercienne Drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wing AU Mercienne

Marianne looked up at the open night sky, wondering what it was like to be up there. It was a nightly ritual for her. She’d been born with wings and as soon as she was old enough to understand words, her family told her - don’t use your wings.   
  
So she didn’t.   
  
Still, though, she wondered, every night as she gardened and took care of her family’s property what it was like to fly. She knew other people flew, of course, but they weren’t her. They weren’t cursed.   
  
So Marianne stayed on the ground and fed the chickens and the horses and watered the plants while everyone was awake and watching her. At night, though, when no one was watching, she would look up at the bright, clear, night sky and close her eyes and imagine the wind underneath her wings. Sometimes, she swore she saw figures flying and she was entranced by the girl with the baby pink wings who glided through the air like an angel.  
  
On bad days, when her family’s expectations were too much and the urge to fly was too much, Marianne would look up and believe that the pink winged woman was an angel. Take me away from here, she’d think to herself, urging her thoughts to carry across open space and into the woman’s mind. They never did, but seeing that woman brought a sort of comfort to Marianne that she didn’t think she could ever explain.   
  
Marianne’s own wings, in comparison to the woman’s, was a dull, boring gray. A cursed gray that showed that her wings were never meant to grow, to fly, to be shown off. They were ugly.   
  
She looked up at the sky, holding her breath, waiting for the woman to fly by. She wanted to see her figure in the moonlight and imagine the feeling of wind beneath her wings.   
  
Tonight, though, something was different. Marianne could feel it in the air and she knew her parents had felt it, too. They’d been more stern than usual today and Marianne made sure she focused on her chores more than usual.   
  
Even though the day had been weird, the night was still hers and she sat on top of the fence looking up at the night sky, waiting for the woman to fly by. Minutes passed by, and then tens of minutes, and then what felt like an hour. Marianne felt her shoulders preparing to droop - the woman must not be flying today. It had happened a couple of times in the last few years Marianne had been watching the sky and it frustrated her every time.   
  
However, just as she was about to get off the fence to head back inside, a soft, gentle voice startled her.  
  
“Hello,” the voice stated and Marianne jumped, scrambling to keep her balance on the fence top. Marianne immediately looked at the voice - preparing to do something, though she didn’t know what, but her breath was taken out of her lungs once she saw who made the voice.   
  
It was the woman. The woman with the pink wings who Marianne had envied for years.   
  
“You,” Marianne breathed and felt her face flush immediately. _You? Certainly, she could be more eloquent?_

The woman, of course, didn’t seem to mind Marianne’s floundering, and giggled, simply smiling at her. Marianne, if she weren’t already flushed from embarrassment, would have flushed from that look.  
  
“My name is Mercedes,” the woman, Mercedes started to say, “and I’ve noticed you watching my fly. I’ve noticed that your family is not very kind and that you do not fly - would you like to join me?” Mercedes’ voice was melodic and beautiful and everything Marianne thought it would be.   
  
“I-I’m Marianne. Could I really join you? To fly?” Marianne breathed and Mercedes smiled and nodded and pointed out the sky.  
  
“I fly with others, but we’re in a spread-out formation so you might not have noticed them. There are others, like us, who want to fly in the night. It’s too dangerous to fly in the daylight but it’d be a shame to not fly at all.” Mercedes stated. Her voice was soothing and gentle and this was the opportunity Marianne had been waiting her whole life for. She hopped off the fence and grasped Mercedes’ hand.  
  
“Could I still visit them? My family?” Marianne’s voice is quiet and shaky, even though she attempts to harden it to seem stronger than she is. Mercedes’ hands are soft and warm and she squeezes Marianne’s hand in hers, looking surprised at Marianne’s question.  
  
“Of course,” Mercedes said, the smile still on her face, “we’re just a community for winged people. Winged young adults or teenagers more accurately - but. People visit their families all the time. I will not judge, however, if you do not want to join. It’s your choice” Marianne worried her lip between her teeth for a moment, debating.  
  
Leave her home, leave all she’s ever known, and be able to fly. (And meet other people)  
  
Or.

Staying on the farm, staying with her family, stay with the safety of knowing what’s happening, and never learn to fly.   
  
The choice should’ve been hard. It wasn’t.  
  
“I’ll come,” Marianne said, her voice strong and shaky at the same, “I want to fly.” Mercedes’ whole face lit up and Marianne’s heart fluttered.   
  
With a squeeze of Marianne’s hand from Mercedes, the two girls began walking forward, away from the farm. Several minutes later, if anyone had been looking, they’d see two winged woman - one with pink wings, one with gray - holding hands and flying over the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr (@officialhilda) and twitter (@hildagonreil)


	4. Sylvix Drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix reflects on growing up and Sylvain and his relationship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was written for my friend, mars <3

Felix was not one you would cool warm and cuddly. He was sharp angles and rough edges. The kind of guy if you came in too close you would get scratched. Felix kept his words sharp and his feeling close to his chest. Softness and openness were not a weakness, per say, but it was not something for him. 

It was something that was attributed to younger children and younger boys before one grew up and saw the world the way it was. Felix had seen the way the world changed emotional boys into hardened men. It was something he’d seen happen to Glenn and then it happened to him, too. He assumed that the razor sharp edges and barbed words was something that would stick with him forever. 

Sylvain, well he. He changed all of that.

With Sylvain, in the privacy of their own home, Felix learned how to be soft. He watched as Sylvain became affectionate with him, with soft smiles and even softer hands and crooned words. And like a cliche, Felix felt his rough edges be smoothed, his sharp words softened. 

He’d seen of course, for years, that Sylvain was smooth where he was rough, soft where Felix was hard, kind where Felix was mean. That dynamic worked well in their friendship and it worked even better in their romantic relationship. Felix hadn’t expected that. Seeing Sylvain’s romantic, soft side come out so easily to Felix inspired him to be that soft. That it was okay to be that soft. That he didn’t have to have the sharp and rough edges to be considered _a man._

Felix expected it to be the hardest thing in the world when he wanted to tell Sylvain he loved him. That he was in love with him. Instead, it felt natural, easy - like breathing. Felix would never rid himself of the image of Sylvain’s face lighting up when he said those three words.

( _F_ _elix loved him)_

Holding Sylvain’s hands now, in their home, after being together for years, Felix realizes that love changes you. He always thought that sentiment was meant badly. Staring up at Sylvain now, he realizes he was wrong. “Why are you staring at me?” Sylvain mumbles, suddenly, and Felix can do nothing but smile. “No reason,” he says quietly, “I just love you.” Sylvain’s face softens at that and he leans in quickly to kiss Felix. “Yeah, well, I love you, too,” Sylvain says and Felix feels his heart flutter. 

He knows. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr @officialhilda and on twitter @hildagonreil

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr (@officialhilda) and twitter (@hildagonreil)


End file.
